


Never Alone, Never Disconnected

by NeoVenus22



Category: Stargate SG-1
Genre: Episode Tag, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-03-11
Updated: 2010-03-11
Packaged: 2017-10-07 21:42:27
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,634
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/69525
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NeoVenus22/pseuds/NeoVenus22
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After the disaster on Galar, all Mitchell wanted to do was to kick back and be alone.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Never Alone, Never Disconnected

**Author's Note:**

> Spoilers: 9x12, 'Collateral Damage'

The banging on Cameron's door was severely cutting into his wallowing time. It would just figure that the day would be capped off with a salesman or a Jehovah's witness or the newspaper carrier. Fighting to distort his face into a mask of polite disinterest, Cameron opened the door and saw Sam standing there. "Hi," she said.

"Sam. C'mon in." He stepped aside so she could enter, and followed her to the couch.

"Nice digs," she observed. The walls were undecorated, there was a pile of dishes in the sink. He only had enough energy to crack an ironic smile at her. In response, she placed a six-pack on the table. "I brought some beer."

"Not really in a drinking mood," he said. "No offense." Sam nodded. Despite her obvious understanding, Cameron felt compelled to add, "I'm planning on staying far, far away from anything even remotely resembling alcohol for a long time."

"Well, to be fair, the alcohol wasn't really the cause of the problem."

"Maybe not," Cameron agreed. "But I'm not looking to get into any situations involving any memory loss, self-induced or not."

"Right. I hope you don't mind if I indulge, though." She cast a grim smile in his direction. "You've got my back."

"Of course," he said. It was an uncharacteristically emotional outburst, the sort of thing that happened more and more frequently in Sam's presence these days. He tried to pass it off casually, throwing in a dismissive, "I owe you one, after all."

Sam couldn't seem to come up with a response to that, so they sat in silence for a several minutes. Cameron watched in what he knew was an increasingly creepy manner as Sam gave one last suck at the neck of her bottle. Frankly, he was beginning to regret his rash decision to forgo alcohol, because he was finding that his mind really needed to be addled. Even if the false memory had been removed, his memory in general was still rebelling against him. He couldn't get Reya's face out of his mind. He couldn't get that convoy out of his mind.

"Cam, are you okay?" she finally asked.

Cameron didn't answer, instead picked up her discarded bottle and threaded it through his fingers.

"All right, how about this one. Are you _going_ to be okay?"

"Probably." Cameron squeezed the bottle, stopping shy of the amount of force required to shatter the glass in his hand. She'd been giving him Sad Eyes all day, and the last thing he needed was to give her another excuse to mother him.

"Do you want to talk about it?" she pressed, already on her second bottle. He watched her again for a moment, wondering how many off-duty hours she'd logged drinking with SG-1.

"Let's just say it ranks high on the list of things I never want to discuss, mention, or think about ever again," he said.

Sam quirked a grin at this. "Gotcha. But do you at least want to talk about Galar?"

Cameron stared at her, unable to do anything else. How on earth she'd ascertained that he was talking about the incident with the convoy - the details of which he was still reasonably certain she didn't know - and not Galar was beyond him. Sam was infinitely more intuitive than he'd given her credit for. In a few days, when he started believing in God again, he'd have to thank Him for dropping Samantha Carter back in SG-1 with him.

"What's to talk about?" he said. "I don't remember killing her anymore, but I remember having the memory of killing her, if that makes any sense. I can't call up details, but I know it was in my head. I remember being arrested, I remember seeing blood on my hands, I remember seeing her body. That's almost as bad."

"That's just a few bad memories," she said dismissively. "You have some good ones, right?"

"Trying not to think about it, to be honest with you," he said. "It's kinda disturbing that I was making out with her hours before she died."

Sam, on the other hand, hardly seemed disturbed. Rather, she was beaming at him mischievously. "Making out?"

"Let's add that to the list of things we're pretending I never said."

"How many lists do you have, exactly?"

"Enough. All right, screw this." He reached past her towards the case. "Gimme a beer."

"Short resolution."

"You should see me at New Year's." He tilted his head back, pouring as much as he could down his throat without choking.

"So you and Dr. Varrick," said Sam. "Were you fixing to be..."

"Serious?" Cameron filled in the blanks. "No, not exactly. We live on different planets, we're both married to our jobs." Too late, he realized he'd used the present tense when referring to Reya. It made his stomach churn. "We both knew what it was."

"Which was..?" teased Sam.

"Are you trying to torture me?"

"When I am, you'll know." She grinned. "So?"

"How come you get to interrogate me, and not the other way around?" he demanded, tapping her shoulder with the butt of his longneck. "Fair's fair. I'm sure you have a few indecent exploits up your sleeve."

"I didn't come here to get drunk and discuss our sex lives. Or lack thereof," she added pointedly.

"Lack thereof? You sure? 'Cause I've heard some talk about you and a certain scientist in Atlantis."

Sam spluttered. "McKay?"

"That's the name being tossed around, yes."

"Oh. Oh, no. Oh, God, no. That's not... McKay is, _at best_, like a brother to me."

"Brother?" Cam chuckled. "Sure. Maybe in 'Flowers in the Attic.'"

Sam swatted his chest, forcefully. Cameron laughed, rubbing the spot. Sam smiling meant Sam no longer needling him. Of course, Sam smiling was a welcome sight no matter the context. It soothed him. "So no?" he pressed the McKay issue.

"Try never."

"Even if he has creepy sexual fantasies about you?"

"Please tell me that you're making that up to pay me back, and that you didn't hear it somewhere."

Cameron smirked, letting her infer what she wanted.

"Oh, sure, sit there and smile, you jackass. I'm the one who won't be able to fall asleep tonight."

"Sam, if you're terrified of some weasly little scientist, I'm really going to have to rethink my entire opinion of you."

"And what exactly is that opinion?" she challenged with an amused glint.

He met her gaze evenly. "Smarter than anyone I know. Except maybe Daniel."

"Don't discredit yourself, Cameron."

"I'm not. I'm just saying I wouldn't go against you guys in Trivial Pursuit." Sam smiled, ducking her head a little, and Cameron continued. "One of the bravest people I've ever met. Compassionate to a fault. A great teammate, and a better friend."

"Cam, you're making me blush."

All day, Cameron's eyes had stung from unseemly tears he had fiercely refused to shed in the presence of strangers. And much as he respected and trusted Sam, he was damn sure not about to let them fall now. "Thanks for coming," he said sharply, the gruffness of his voice no doubt giving him away.

Sam only smiled, patted his arm, and took another sip of beer. They settled into a comfortable silence that gave the impression of more years of friendship than were actually between them.

Silence was a rarity in the life of SG-1 personnel, Cameron found, and while he hated being off-duty (it made him antsy), he did appreciate the small pleasures afforded by these moments. So he was a little sad when Sam said, "I'm going to head out."

"All right," he said with a brave face. At the beginning of the evening, all he wanted was to be alone, but now the prospect of sitting by his drunken lonesome made him crave Sam's presence. She was like a filter, taking all the bad energy out of his thoughts.

"Unless you want me to stay," she said. He knew she would if he asked, and he really wanted to ask.

And therein Cameron realized the problem. He'd been so desperate to join the ranks of SG-1 that while there, he had lost the ability to function by himself anymore. It was good to know his friends were there for him, but how much longer would they be there if they thought they'd always have to be? How much of their loyalty would he demand?

"Go on home. I'm fine."

Sam stood, her mouth set. "I'm supposed to remind you that you're to take as much time as you need."

"Impending hangover willing, I'll be back tomorrow," he promised.

"No one's expecting you to, Cam. We'll manage. Take some time," she urged.

"Been there, done that. I'm fine, Sam, I promise. I'm not about to let SG-1 down."

There was so much kindness reflected in Sam's eyes that the room seemed to brighten. "You haven't so far." She bent down and kissed his cheek. "Get some sleep. I guess we'll see you tomorrow."

"Looking forward to it," he said, and meant it. He didn't watch her leave, just sat and finished his beer. He was doing a bang-up job of proving himself to SG-1, wasn't he? So far, he'd groveled and begged to get SG-1 back, he'd made an ass of himself in front of the General on several occasions, and he'd gotten arrested for murder. "Oh for three," he muttered, debating another beer.

Cameron decided against it, and stretched out on the couch. It was still warm where Sam had been sitting, and he couldn't help thinking how glad he was that she'd come. And how comforted he was by the fact that she would come again. Maybe he wasn't the most respected member of SG-1. But they had his back. And that was enough.


End file.
